


Dark Eyes

by newtype



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Animal Transformation, Astral Projection, Clan Politics, Cursed boyfriends, Fox!Keith, Human/Monster Romance, Memory Loss, No One Is Human, Other, Pack Dynamics, SHEITH - Freeform, Wolf!Shiro, blade of marmora
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10799253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtype/pseuds/newtype
Summary: A fox shapeshifter dreams of a mysterious black wolf in the night. Keith finds Shiro and turmoil ignites between their clans like a slow-burning flame. How long can Keith keep Shiro's secret – that he too is a shapeshifter pushed to the fringes of society?Clan Marmora reluctantly takes Shiro in, but it might already be too late. With the converge of species comes new growing pains – blood is thicker than water.





	Dark Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a new series. Not quite werewolves, but I'm a life-long fan of animal fantasy and shapeshifter lore. In this AU, the galran race resembles foxes, hence the appearance of Keith and others.
> 
> I thrive on your feedback and comments, so please let me know what you think! A special thank-you to Rev for commissioning the start of this project. Beta-reading credit goes to gay dad Micah (CarrionFlower). And thanks for the moral support from Aeric, Soap, Tei, Jasmine and many more. I love y'all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finds Shiro. He can't bear to be alone; the wild is calling.

  _I live in another world where life and death are memorized_  
_Where the earth is strung with lover's pearls and all I see are dark eyes._

* * *

 

**I.**

If you lived with the clan, you never wandered too far. The established boundaries of the woods existed long before Keith’s time. For that reason, he thought nothing of it to notice the wandering black shape in the distance. A heavy, ashen scent attacked him. He ran. Within a split second, Keith took his fox form, lowering himself to his paws in a quiet, steady prowl to watch the outsider approach.

At the bottom of the cliffside, Keith’s ears instinctively perked at the sound of pained whining, not too far from where he’d landed. Under these circumstances, the clan required intruders to be closely monitored lest they are infiltrated by a spy. Keith saw the opportunity in guarding the watchpost, his entire body twitching in anticipation that he might finally earn his place in the pack.

The figure continued limping towards the path leading into the burrow’s secret entrance. Taking a crouching position, Keith slipped through the thistle and emerged from the opposite end of the cliff. Just close enough to catch a glimpse -- Keith recognized the figure as not just a wolf, but an injured one at that. Dark spatters of blood trailed behind its footprints -- dangerously close to revealing where the clan lived.

Keith knew what he had to do.

Despite its size, the wolf made no effort to push him away or attack. He only needed to bare his teeth once to realize that the other was immobilized enough by whatever had the first strike.

– _What are you doing here?_ Keith asked.

– _I don’t remember. I need help._

– _You’re trespassing._

– _They took my leg. I’ll bleed out before I can make it back._

– _That isn’t our problem,_ Keith snarled. _Leave._

– _You know they’ll come back for the body._

Keith hesitated at the veiled threat. He made a mental note to later ask about this ominous-sounding ‘they’ for now. The amount of blood that followed the stranger was unnerving; even from the cliff, Keith could distinctly locate its source. If they didn’t act soon, it’d take no time for predators to catch on to the scent trail and follow after.

– _Follow me,_ Keith demanded. _I’ll have to put the safety of my clan ahead you._ From his tone, it was apparent that there would be no negotiation.

The black wolf held his stance, piercing yellow eyes staring back at him. A distinctive scar ran across the flat of his snout, running deep into the flesh. Whatever had made it must’ve had the intent to kill Keith realized.

 _\- Take me there,_ the wolf said.

That scar was uncannily familiar – could it be just some nonsense déjà vu? Slashed across the stranger’s snout, the shape of the marking was too striking not to notice. Keith felt unsettled.

Although he had no intention to ask, he began to wonder if this wolf had once been a member of his pack. An uncomfortable silence rose between them. Keith glanced over his shoulder, seeing that his companion wasn’t too far behind while still maintaining his distance. In no time they'd find the trail leading back to his colony. Keith hurried on ahead without looking back.

* * *

 

**II.**

Within the ranks of the Marmora clan, Keith’s position only allowed him so much arbitrary access to those in power. He suspected that this early in the morning, it was likely only one other member was around on patrol. Keith recoiled at the thought of interrupting them, especially with an injured stranger; none of them were exactly thriving, and he feared being perceived as selfish.

As far as he knew, underling dragging in half-dead roadkill wasn't appreciated when tensions within the clan were peaking. Especially wolves. Being perceived as self-occupied was – in the best sense – enough of a suggestion for mutiny. Keith was determined to still have a place sleep tonight, not to spark any more infighting among the other patrolling shape-shifters.

– _What are you called?_

– _Shiro._ The words felt foreign on Keith’s tongue, but proper. Like an incantation, he never knew he’d committed to memory until now. Had it belonged to the language of any of the neighboring clans he would have clearly recognized it.

– _That’s a wolf’s name,_ Keith replied. He didn’t rise his intonation at Shiro’s response and simply kept up his brisk pace. _Typical._

They crossed over a stream, narrowing avoiding the deteriorated foliage to gain a better footing on dry soil. The trail from here was straightforward, making it easier for Keith to conduct a conversation and extract information.

– _You’re taking back to your camp, aren’t you?_ Shiro asked accusingly. The trail head twisted into a knoll, descending from the higher vantage point. He still had reasons for his suspicions. Shiro knew foxes, knew they couldn’t be entirely trusted with a stranger’s name or pack. This was not his territory.

– _Can you trace anyone back to anyone else in your clan? We can’t help with much besides the wound._

– _My pack, you mean,_ Shiro said. _I don’t recall…I don’t remember how I ended up here. I was attacked. Then this happened._

– _Don’t you remember your pack?_ Keith’s ear twitched. _What about where you came from? Which direction? It’s not as safe wandering too far_.

Maybe he was being too aggressive with Shiro. But knowing how much his own clan mattered to him – he couldn’t ignore the desire to find that out, at the very least. He slowed down his pace so that he and Shiro were walking towards a narrowed path.

– _Has it always been like this? You’re telling me you have no memory at all?_ The fox leading him was pressed, but it only made Shiro feel more like an outsider. No one was obliged to be sympathetic to an intruder.

For a second, a pang of guilt shot through Shiro. He wanted to apologize to Keith, assure him that he wasn’t intentionally being oblique. But his mind only seized at the thought, as if something internal was compelling him to remain painfully silent.

– _That’s alright. I won’t make you answer anything you don’t want to._ Keith snorted. For now, he seemed satisfied. He turned to look at Shiro’s limp. _Your leg needs a doctor._

– _Are you going to capture me?_

Keith stopped in his tracks, sweeping his tail between his legs, not quite sure what to say. As far as he was concerned, this Shiro had every reason to be suspicious. It was quite possible no one had shown him whatever hospitality Keith was providing him. He’d be lying if he ignored the fact that, regardless of his competitive streak, Keith hated to see others in pain. But of course, he would never admit that, not here, not anywhere.

– _I don’t confide in wolves,_ Keith said. _I’m sorry._

At the end of the day, Keith was required to adhere to allegiance for his clan. Those were the ways of _Marmora,_ and he’d be a traitor to suddenly neglect them now.

Keith made oaths. There were some promises he couldn’t break under any circumstances, especially when he owed so much to Thace, Ulaz, the others. As if their narrowed eyes followed each move, a ghost of a thought haunting him, whom he spoke to, who he took for friends, enemies. Glancing over his shoulder at Shiro, he couldn’t bear the hesitant pang of self-recognition.

Questioning his own motives might reveal a pining Keith refused to acknowledge.

– _No, I understand._ Shiro snorted and clawed at the loose gravel. _I have no right to be asking, anyways. We should be on our way._

The burrow widened as they approach its end, sliding through the bottleneck-shaped crevices into a matted expanse of low-hanging branches. Shiro hunched, slinking his body closer to the ground as Keith easily trotted ahead of him, increasing his pace in a definitive direction.

 _If this particular clan had rites,_ Shiro thought, _I’d have no choice but to participate._

The wilderness spared no other injured body. Nothing in his senses encouraged him to plead for their kindness or their mediated hospitality. The sharp glare of Keith’s striking violet eyes was his own indication of permission, Shiro’s single allowance to follow through and blindly come Keith’s way.

He beckoned Shiro.

 

* * *

 

**III.**

The division of the wolf and fox clans was the supposed origin myth told by Marmora’s ancestors, a tale passing through its progenitors and upheld in the codes of its members. Those fortunate enough to be inducted into Marmora felt the constant demand for loyalty like a needle slowly pricking the nape of his neck. Keith wanted to be free of it, but now it was all he could focus on as Thace, in his humanoid form, scolded him like a misbehaving child.

This is how Thace knew he was paying attention.

– _You brought a wolf into your homestead,_ Thace warned him, _endangering not only your own life but also that of your superiors._

Arguing that had he left Shiro on the trail, other wolves would have picked up the scent of his corpse was no longer an option. Keith closed his eyes and contemplated his decision; if he was honest, he could easily hand Shiro over to Thace, and leave this mess entirely. But that’d be taking the easy route, forfeiting his responsibility in the first place. If anything, Keith felt impulsively obligated, a motivation in his chest to prove some semblance of solidarity with the injured stranger. Reminding himself he didn’t owe strangers his time felt impossible.

– _We don’t know anything about him,_ Keith replied, _and he said he doesn’t remember what or who attacked him. I don’t think our sympathy is too much to ask for._

– _He has a scent trail. That wound of his had traveled all the way alongside you._ Thace spared Shiro only a quick glance, a silent acknowledgment that he neither had the time nor interest in his case. _Do you know the source of his injuries? How did this happen?_

Meanwhile, Shiro stood his place behind Keith, making his best effort not to stare directly back at Thace. In his humanoid form, Thace had dark black, almost purple-like fur that followed up his cheekbones, contouring them against the rest of his features. Sharp golden cat’s eye had no patience for either of them. This was man building up in years, a superior who had clear dominance. Keith was clearly under in rank.

For now, Shiro could only assume Keith believed his lapses in memory were true. If he were confronted, cornered by Keith’s clan, however, his chances of escaping were slim. Shiro almost wanted to name the burning in throat ‘guilt’ if any reprimands against Keith became his fault. The bitter taste of blood still sat on his tongue. It’d take not only time but a clear obligation to any mercy they give him for the fox clan’s trust.

From Thace’s body language, Shiro assumed no one in this den would hesitate to maim and kill. No one owed him anything.

That was only instinct, Shiro rationalized. Either was, he was negotiating a potential death-sentence.

– _Send him to the medic. After you’re done, come see me. Tell Ulaz you found him injured on the hunting trail. I will tell Kolivan in private._

Before Keith could answer, Thace swiftly turned around and darted in the direction Shiro presumed to be his personal quarters. Keith stood in silence, taking in the suddenly eerie emptiness of the den hollow since Shiro’s arrival. There weren’t any doubts now; this strange wolf’s presence was known from the very start. Everyone else had decisively gone into hiding. Keith’s ears perked for only a second before lowering, realizing the larger black wolf behind him was also staring.

– _That wound of yours won’t be fatal,_ Keith finally said. Shiro followed his sharp eyes to the nub where his forearm once was, now only a bloodied patch of torn fur and scarring flesh. With the right treatments, he could easily fare away from infection. _Our doctors are good. From what I understand, we need you alive. Ulaz will take care of you._

Still, Keith’s eyes lingered on the wound, the faintest mark of fear striking across his face. Shiro couldn’t question it; the recognition came to him like sighting a long-forgotten constellation for the first time. He knew Keith. A force like gravity attracted him to the mysterious shape-shifter, like a word he knew but couldn’t immediately recall. Somehow Keith’s disposition didn’t set off the alarm it should have had – Shiro at least owed it to himself to ask why.

But he didn’t dare answer Keith’s glare. The slimmest suspicion of rejection made his stomach cave.

The identity of his attacker on the other hand -- if only he could remember that.

– _I don’t know who it was,_ Shiro answered, _this whole situation feels so beyond me. I can’t even begin to lay it out to you_ – _and I know you’re concerned._

– _Don’t misinterpret me_ , Keith growled back, _I never said I was scared._

– _They clearly love you. You have a family here._ Shiro felt confident. _I can tell that, at least._

– _You don’t know me. Thace will decide what we do with you. Like I said, our medics are good. They’ll know what to do with you._

Shiro sucked in his breathe at the unexpected aggression in Keith’s voice. The dark-reddish fox looked his way, grinding his bared claws into the well-worn ground below. A stark violet glare told him feigned intimacy was not appreciated here. He was a social hunter among lone predators – never in his life would he thought he would get this close to a fox clan.

 _He’s beautiful,_ Shiro realized.

The wild had its callings and both of them could feel it in the earth, a low vibration of magic and the sounds of footsteps. Keith barely gave him his time. As far as he knew, this was home.

 

* * *

 

**IV.**

“They’re runes...wolf runic magic. I’ve never dealt with this before. We’ll be proceeding with caution, but I can’t promise anything I know will alleviate the symptoms.”

Ulaz, the clan’s most respected medic, had rejected his own ancestral shape-shifting in favor of his current body, a bipedal, pointed-ears. He’d been appointed the position after Thace convinced their leader Kolivan to promote him. Despite being so illusive, Keith took every opportunity he could get with him – it was almost the closest thing he had to solidarity within his ranks.

After Shiro followed Ulaz’s orders, Keith took his human form inside the medic tent, pacing at a distance to respect their privacy. A low scent of boiling herbs incenses, and a crude hint of infection carried itself through the air. This magic had to be respected from afar. The healing arts weren’t his field of expertise, but Keith respected Ulaz as much as anyone else.

While he certainly wasn’t the only shape-shifter – Thace had arrived long before he did – Keith felt an uncannily semblance of being an outsider. Clans were typically enclosed societies; barring way for a vagabond like Keith was a rare and exceptional case. He couldn’t anticipate what they would do with Shiro.

Keith ran an unsteady hand through his hair, twisting a finger around it, hyper-fixating on Ulaz, tall and thin, leaning over the currently unconscious Shiro. Keith’s body felt strange.

Words weren’t enough to describe the untouched apathy he felt with his appearance; he felt less like himself and more of a vessel fitted for shape-shifter society. As far as intelligent species went, humans had been a particularly odd choice.

“Will it kill him? Is it that bad?” Keith asked. His own voice made him flinch. He preferred silence.

“No,” Ulaz answered, “not yet, at least, if we break the rune in time. It seems to have been misapplied in midst of the attack. Your friend is lucky to have made it this close to your watch-post. Whoever targeted him aimed to kill.”

After finishing a set of stitches, Ulaz straightened himself and put his surgical tools aside, stepping back from the table to rekindle the fire he’d use to boil water. A fine steam rose from the pot, allowing him to quickly rinse and disinfect the precisely carved knife in hand.

“He bled the entire way,” Keith said, “I’m surprised he didn’t faint from blood-loss. We’re still not sure what to do with him. He’s going to make the night then, right?”

He noticed Ulaz’s ears twitch in response from the behind. The medic removed his surgical gloves with practiced efficiency. In comparison to other clans, Marmora far surpassed any other in their capacity to mimic human medicine and technology. Sometimes it frightened Keith.

A thin line formed around Ulaz high cheekbones, a hint that he was only willing to tell Keith as much as he expected him to handle. Keith gingerly approached him, intentionally avoiding the bedpost where the black wolf named Shiro slept.

“You’re quite concerned for a stranger,” Ulaz said. More mist began to rise from the boiling water. While Keith turned away, a bundle of leaves had been dropped to the bottom of the pot, a combination of substances that slowly began to negate the budding smell of sickness.

“I just met him,” Keith answered. “Never seen a wolf that size in the wild, though. He seems disoriented but not incapable of fighting. There’s only -- I can’t put my tongue on it. I feel like I _know_ him, Ulaz.”

The medic took a deep breath in response. Of all the times Ulaz had to comfort him, Keith could recognize the slight uneasy in his stare, his tense shoulders.

“Does he have a name?” Ulaz asked.

“Shiro.” The word made Keith pause as if he’d just burned his mouth. He followed Ulaz to the medical table, warily keeping his distance as the black wolf started to stir.

Ulaz smirked over the mist, wrapping his surgical tools away in a tanned knapsack and sliding them back into a wooden compartment. Across the room, Shiro’s snout twitched at the new aroma, eventually easing out of a lulled state into vague awareness of his surroundings. Keith reflexively bit his bottom lip. His whitened fisted trembled in anticipation as Ulaz quietly approached Shiro.

The herb’s effects didn’t take long to work. Combined with the incenses Ulaz had lit in preparation, a comforting, if not vaguely euphoric sensation crept on the goosebumps of Keith’s skin. Unlike his animal form, the impact of Ulaz’s medicine was much more nuanced in a human body, an ironic side-effect for an incantation suited for only half of the clan’s population. If he wasn’t prepared, a simple spell intended to treat fellow Marmora members would be more than enough to make Keith uneasy.

“He’ll make a steady recovery,” Ulaz said. “I’ll keep these incenses burning in the meanwhile overnight. You’re welcome to stay, but it’s not necessary. Do you know him?”

“I’ve never seen him before. I was on patrol when I noticed him limping towards us.” Keith hesitated to continue, glancing at Shiro’s ear beginning to twitch.

Ulaz paused, steadying his hands on the operation table as he finished locking the wooden cabinets. He towered over Shiro in height, lean with the lightest, almost-white shade of violet fur against the wolf’s black and black. Compared to Shiro’s build, he appeared underfed. At least here he was safe, Keith figured; whatever Thace seemingly lacked in hospitality Ulaz made up in his silent apprehension of their strange visitor.

“He appears to be rather strong despite the wound,” Ulaz observe. He washed his hands in another sterilized pot of water, making a quick waving gesture Keith couldn’t catch before walking away. A candle flickered, one of the few open-flames not used for incenses.

“It’s a shame that once he regains consciousness, we’ll have no choice but to question him. Had the circumstances been different, I would have liked to ask him about his family. Hopefully, Thace isn’t too rough with him.”

The comment hit Keith like a slap on the back.

“Question him? He – he didn’t do anything wrong. I think someone attacked him. When I found him he was disoriented, didn’t even know where he was going –”

“We have to be cautious,” Ulaz snapped, “especially with the other clans around. You understand that Marmora is not seen too kindly by outsiders. As it stands, there’s nothing stopping the wolf clans from invading our camps. The risk of sabotage is high enough as it is.”

Discussion of the neighboring clans was scarce – it was a sensitive subject. Keith took careful note of whenever a crucial bit of information surfaced. For now – he was still piecing it all together, whatever fragments of history he could strain from Ulaz’s brief comments. It only occurred to him that this was the longest he’d spent alone with Ulaz, without the interference of any other medics or Thace, even.

“Do you think there’s something wrong? Did you – find anything that would be alarming?” Keith whispered. It was a vague suspicion, nothing he could grasp a hold of with any actual evidence yet, but had Shiro also been a shape-shifter…

For all he tried, Keith couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being left in the dark. Curiosity began to press on him more and more like a gnawing pain.

“Scarring,” Ulaz answered. “It’s not a significant injury. But I’m concerned for the rune. It appears to be burned into the flesh – very powerful magic. If we investigate this further, we need to take caution.”

“Is that it?”

“We don’t see wolves. I’ve only worked with so many, and that was some time ago. Besides the wound, I can’t say he’s any exception to your standard breed. He’s very fortunate to not have bled dry.” Ulaz only gave Shiro a momentary glance. “I wouldn’t put self-amputation pass this case, either. The cut’s clean. This wouldn’t be the first time.”

As rarely as he heard the word ‘breed’ from someone who’d spent their lives living among shape-shifters, Keith held his tongue. He needed to press on.

“Do you think he’s like me, Ulaz? Is he different like I am?”

“A shifter?” He gave Keith a brief accusatory glare. It felt like a jab. “I’d be able to tell.”

Keith shifted his weight, tugging at a strand of black hair behind his ears. Even in this form, his pointed reddish ears discreetly peeked out. This was the closest he could get to maintaining a seemingly natural appearance.

It didn’t take long for Ulaz to realize Keith wasn’t going to respond.

 _That’s fine,_ Keith decided, _I don’t need to know now_. Ulaz’s feelings towards shape-shifters within the clan were messy at best. Avoidant at worst.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Ulaz said dismissively on his way out. “It will be a long night for the council. Get some rest. Come morning we’ll make a decision as to how to proceed.”

If Keith could tear that lurking suspicious out of his body, he would. It reminded him of standing by the fire his first night in the camp, feeling the warmth of all the bodies surrounding him. Overwhelming would be an understatement. Nostalgia – could he call it nostalgia? He had felt so alone, barely human, barely anything.

A floating burning red spot caught the corner of Keith’s eye. _I must be seeing things,_ he thought, _it’s been a long day._ It beckoned and twisted after Ulaz left, providing just enough light for Keith to find a corner to sleep in. Thick with the scent of herbs and incenses, Keith slowly breathed in healing air, feeling his chest expand, rise, and eventually fall into sleep. The glow faded.

 

* * *

 

 **V.**

Wetness prickled his skin, forming crystal-like droplets making Keith shiver. Clear lights came and drifted away from sight, vanishing as soon as he noticed the man ahead of him. It like being splashed with cold water, as if Keith was being submerged within an irreconcilable feeling of loneliness he hadn’t noticed before.

It was _him._ Shiro.

Keith eagerly stretched out his hand – he was in his human body, a first for his dreams. Something was waiting for him. Burning. He was burning. In the dark, he could barely distinguish his own fingers from the blurred edges of figures around him. Woods – the air was heavy with the smell of pines, of wild thickets and brush. A low mist swept beneath his feet; whoever else was with him, they were standing in an empty circle of trees, waiting.

He was not alone.

When the man turned around, Keith felt his chest collapse. Instincts told him to run, but he couldn’t bear to tear himself away; he knew him – an eerie familiarity tied itself around Keith and refused to let go.

“Shiro,” he whispered. Tall, broad shoulders. A streak of white painted across black bangs. The look of a lost stranger who, despite all odds, somehow managed to find himself in this place, in this specific moment in time. _If time even passed here,_ Keith wondered. If he wished could name the paralysis running down his legs. He wanted to run towards him but felt the constraints of his own hesitation too overwhelming.

 _I know you._ Keith realized. _You haunt me._

“They say this is going out of fashion these days,” Shiro said. Keith wanted to believe all of this was normal for him. “Astral projection. Your clan must be keeping the tradition alive for you to be this good at it. Your medic did this.”

The sound of Shiro’s voice made Keith’s body wince, reacting without any warning. He almost thought he was on the onset of panic. There was no reason for him to know this was _Shiro_ – that this stranger he’d never seen in his life was more than just a wolf.

As if the breath had been forcibly sucked out of him, Keith felt himself tremble. Even in a dreamscape, he couldn’t ignore that he’d had forgotten something crucial to his memories.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t talk earlier. This seems to be the only method that works,” Shiro continued. “We can thank your friend Ulaz for that. I think he knew.”

“Knew what?” Keith pressed.

“That we couldn’t answer our questions any other way. It makes sense, I mean. Don’t you feel it, too? Like I know you? I can’t stop thinking about it.”

A bird cry pierced the silence. Keith wanted to look up but felt the anxiety rise against his stomach.

“No,” Keith said, “I don’t know you. I don’t appreciate this, either.”

_You’ll regret those words. You didn’t mean to say that._

The quiet frown on Shiro’s face almost made Keith feel bad. But it was dark. He could excuse himself for not being able to read the obvious.

“You have a human form. You’re a shape-shifter, aren’t you?” Keith asked. “That’s the only reason why this is happening.”

“That seems to be the case. Extremely inconvenient.”

“Why don’t you change back then – ?” Keith felt like swallowing his own questions, but he had to ask. It was gnawing at him alive. You just don’t run away from that.

“No one would stop you if you left,” Keith warned.

Shiro sucked in his breath. Maybe he was being too hasty, Keith realized. Maybe he just had no business pushing a stranger like this. _In the middle of some astral field, no less._

“Let’s just say I didn’t have much say in the matter. I’m surprised too,” Shiro said. He sounded defeated. “That I can even do this much. Have they ever taught you magic?”

“No,” Keith hesitated to reply, “But I’m not sure why you’re asking me. I’ll learn when they teach me. I’m lucky they even keep me here.”

Shiro whistled. Despite the uncanniness of their setting, Keith couldn’t help to notice that he was oddly at peace. As if he’d been here before.

Did _he_ feel the same way, too? Could he even begin to spit it out to Shiro, the way his voice rattled his center of balance? He couldn’t ignore it. It was so irrevocably, persistently _there_ in his mind. Had this been anyone else, Keith knew he could have left at any moment, cut this off immediately and never think of it again.

“Count your blessings,” Shiro said, “You got yourself a home here. I should be thanking you for taking me in, but I’m also not sure what your motives are. Even for a shifter – you decided to live out here.”

“I’ll help you,” Keith choked. He hoped he didn’t regret this. “Just tell me what you need. I don’t know if I can get it, but I’ll try. I don’t have a lot of power, but I can try. I can give you that.”

“That’s some promise. You know I can’t change back. You’re catching on, aren’t you? This just isn’t some simple spell, Keith.” Shiro glanced down. In the thick curtain of fog, Keith noticed an almost surgical amputation at his elbow. There was no doubt. It really was him.

“They hexed you. Black magic. Someone intentionally sought you out.” Keith sounded frantic. He didn’t want to seem pressed. But leaving Shiro the hands of his clan would be too much of a risk; he wouldn’t let him go that easily. Not yet.

“I guess I took being human for granted,” Shiro admitted, “I can’t tell. It’s like an attack on all my senses. Are we going to wake up and pretend this was all a dream?”

The comment struck Keith as pained. Perhaps had some guilt-complex regarding the entire situation. But Keith couldn’t help fix that for now. He needed answers, cross his fingers and pray this meeting would last long enough for him to ask.

 _You’re never going to get anywhere with that attitude, pup. Straighten up and listen. You live with Marmora now. Failure is a death sentence. Humans are weak – you’re not._ Koliva's words had never left Keith. No one ever owed him anything. All he had was resilence, a drive for survival.

“We – we really can help you,” Keith said. He was struggling. The words felt like needles in his mouth. Had it always been this hard to speak in his dreams?

“If you let us help you, we will.”

“It’s a curse. A rune.” Shiro kept his distance. “If you break it –”

“We can take risks. It doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t need to suffer alone.”

A surge of hot white energy was bubbling in his chest; it felt acidic, so bitter that is startled Keith.

_I'll wake up – this would all be over soon._

There wasn’t much time left for Keith to feel the strain in his muscle, demanding just one chance to brush his fingertips against Shiro. A cold, still weight was overwhelming him. An opposing force was pulling him away, slipping him out of the wet placidness just within reach. He couldn’t let go – Keith recognized the sensation of burning, forcing himself to push on, come closer to the Shiro he saw obscured in the wilderness. They were going to depart very soon. Shiro would leave him.

Dancing shadows flung overhead with an unprecedented amount of speed. As if a black hole had swallowed everything and was slowly filling in the gaps between him and Shiro. The body he couldn't touch no matter the distance. 

A dark cloud leered from above. Rain was falling – it was time to leave. Something instinctual told Keith he shouldn't overstay his welcome.

_The sun's rising, Shiro._

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/watsnewbussycat)


End file.
